Domo Arigato Fisto Roboto
by Red Witch
Summary: Once again the Figgis Agency must find new ways to make money. Enter Krieger and Pam's latest scheme.


**A crazed robot took down the disclaimer saying I don't own any Archer characters. So how did the Figgis Agency try to survive when Archer was in a coma? This is a possibility. Let's be honest. You can't put this past these people.**

 **Domo Arigato Fisto Roboto **

"And that is why from now on jet packs and Babou are **banned** from this agency!" Cyril finished his lecture to the Figgis Agency. " **Got it**? Krieger! Cheryl?"

"Whatever," Cheryl pouted.

"Okay," Cyril said. "Let's try and get back on track to the topic I was talking about the other day. Which was…"

"Throwing acid in Veronica Deane's face!" Cheryl cheered.

"No!" Cyril shouted.

"Setting Veronica Deane's house on fire!" Cheryl added.

"No!" Cyril snapped.

"Setting Veronica Deane on fire!" Cheryl added. "While throwing acid in her face!"

"NO!" Cyril shouted. "I was talking about how this agency is going to make more money while Archer is in coma! Million Dollar Crazy!"

"It's **Billion** Dollar Crazy!" Cheryl corrected.

"Cheryl honey," Lana sighed. "It's not that we don't like your ideas about what to do with Veronica Deane."

"Which for once I find useful," Mallory added. "In fact, you can just write down a whole list of ideas for me to read later. I feel it would relax me."

"I would also like to read that list," Lana said. "But that's not exactly going to help our situation when it comes to bringing money into this agency."

"It's going to cost us a fortune alone to pay for Sterling's medical bills," Mallory groaned. "It's just like Sterling to find another way to sponge money off me!"

"He's in a _coma,_ " Ray said incredulously. "Not underneath a pile of hookers in Vegas."

"Unconscious is pretty much almost he spends every other weekend at Vegas," Mallory grumbled. "And quite a few times in Thailand."

"So you think he's just going to just snap out of his coma at any time?" Pam asked.

"Why wouldn't he?" Mallory said. "It's been less than a week. Sterling's bound to wake up soon. He will. But in the meantime there are bills to pay."

"What about insurance?" Lana asked. "Archer does have a life insurance policy. Doesn't he?"

"And aren't we **supposed to** have a life insurance policy?" Cheryl asked.

"Correction," Mallory groaned. "We **had** a life insurance policy. Back when we were a spy agency! Long story short, we don't anymore."

"What about private insurance?" Cyril asked. "Surely you can afford to pay for your own son's insurance? You paid for pretty much everything else in his life."

"Who the hell in their right minds would insure a former spy slash failed drug dealer slash unlicensed detective slash irresponsible drunken nitwit?" Mallory snapped. "Who's been shot over **thirty times**?"

"Oh," Cyril blinked. "When you put it like that I can kind of see the insurance agencies' point."

"I was talking about **me** ," Mallory groaned. "But yes Cyril, getting an insurance company to cover Sterling would be an exercise in futility."

"Even with covering up his past medical conditions?" Ray asked.

"You mean lying about Sterling's medical history and having a doctor sign it?" Mallory snapped. "Where would I get a doctor that…Oh right."

"Hello!" Ray pointed to Krieger.

"Hello!" Krieger waved.

"Damn it!" Mallory grumbled. "I should have thought of that!"

"So long story short," Lana sighed. "Basically, what funds we do have are going to be drained. Partially by Archer's condition. And our own lives are pretty much uninsured because we used to get insurance back when we were a spy agency the first time but it turns out that was a big fat fake!"

"Except for Cyril," Cheryl spoke up. "Who probably knew all along that our old spy agency was fake. But just went along with it."

"WHAT?" Cyril snapped. "That's insane even for **you!"**

"You know that does make sense," Ray thought. "I mean you were the comptroller. You honestly didn't see any warning signs?"

"I was too busy cooking the books when **this one** was embezzling our money!" Cyril pointed to Mallory. "So she could pay off her blackmailers for her damn sex tapes!"

"And knowing you," Cheryl said. "You probably seized the opportunity to embezzle some of that money on your own and put it in a secret account in the Cayman Islands under an assumed name."

"That would imply Cyril is some kind of accounting criminal mastermind," Lana scoffed.

"Which he's not," Ray said.

"Yeah, I'm not," Cyril nodded eagerly. "Definitely not."

"Although…" Pam remembered. "There was that **one time** …"

"Pam! Shut up!" Cyril snapped.

"You **shut up**!" Pam snapped. "That one time when Archer was hanging around with the pirates and Ms. Archer wanted the ransom money but you lost it."

"You did **what?"** Mallory glared at Cyril.

"You got me drunk and the next thing I knew the money was in a different account by accident!" Cyril snapped as he pointed to Pam.

"Yeah that does sound more likely for Cyril," Ray nodded.

"I put the money back once I found it!" Cyril snapped.

" **All** of it?" Cheryl asked.

"Yes, **all** of it!" Cyril shouted.

"You sure you secretly didn't keep **any** of that money from our spy agency?" Cheryl asked.

"Unless Pam got me drunk again I'm sure!" Cyril snapped.

"You better not have Mister!" Mallory growled.

"Mallory," Lana gave him a look. "It's _Cyril."_

"Right," Mallory snorted. "What was I thinking?"

"I mean come on Cheryl," Pam snorted. "Cyril? Having the balls to actually rip off Ms. Archer on purpose! HA!"

Everyone then laughed hard and long. Even Cyril strangely enough.

No one noticed Cyril cautiously darting his eyes around. "That's right. Plain old dumb Cyril wouldn't steal millions of dollars from all those different accounts all these years and hide it in a Cayman Islands account. Under an assumed name. That's just crazy. Crazy. Crazy. Crazy."

"Oh I think we needed that," Mallory chuckled.

"We did," Ray agreed. "We really did."

"Well now we need to go back to the realm of reality," Lana stopped laughing. "What are we going to do for money? Especially if we can't get any clients?"

"Let's just say Krieger and I saw some kind of disaster coming," Pam said. "So we decided to start up our own online business!"

"Please tell me it's not the drug filled ice cream again," Cyril groaned.

"No, Fig Brain!" Pam snapped. "We're selling online sex toys."

"Oh yeah that's **much** better," Cyril groaned.

"We've already made five grand online," Pam told him.

"Seriously?" Mallory was stunned.

"And how much money did you spend making your…" Cyril paused with a grimace. "Wares?"

"About ten grand," Krieger said.

"We are so screwed," Cyril groaned.

"We're getting more sales every day, ding dong!" Pam protested. "Show 'em the website Krieger!"

"Ta dah!" Krieger turned on the website on the agency's large screen.

"It's like Porn R Us on there!" Ray gasped as they saw what was on screen.

"We were going to call it that," Pam said. "Then we found out someone trademarked that name. So we went with this…"

"Dr. Krieger's Spielsachen Shack," Cyril read. "Fun for consenting adults age 21 and up."

"Those butt plugs kind of look like fun," Cheryl said. "And in so many colors!"

"Oh my God," Mallory winced. "Do I even **want** to know what someone would do with an electric ping pong paddle?"

"Probably not," Krieger shrugged.

"Is this **legal**?" Lana asked.

"Define legal," Krieger asked.

"Lana nearly seventy five percent of the Internet is illegal if you think about it!" Pam snapped. "And some of the other twenty five percent probably should be."

"Like companies acquiring and selling your personal browsing history to advertisers for cash?" Krieger asked. "You don't think that's a **huge** gray area right there?"

"At the very least we should get a cut," Pam nodded.

"The Internet is the basically the Wild West of the new millennium," Krieger nodded.

"By the looks of that weird saddle you're selling you got **that right** ," Ray blinked.

"And it's not like we're just taking people's money and ripping them off," Pam added. "We're selling high quality product here."

"Customer satisfaction is our priority!" Krieger nodded.

"When they put it like that Lana…" Cyril sighed. "You have to admit they have a point."

"And the real money is in shipping and handling anyway," Pam added. "So we can sell our product at good value while making good money!"

"How did you make all those things?" Lana asked.

"It's amazing how fast and efficient the Krieger Bots can be," Krieger shrugged. "They're a real time saver."

"You have your stupid robots make **sex toys**?" Lana asked.

"Which cuts out labor and half the manufacturing costs," Mallory realized. "Huh."

"Mallory!" Lana gasped. "This is even worse than the animated porn they used to put out!"

"We still do that too," Pam said. "Just not as big a market for it as we thought."

"But we are gaining a small cult following," Krieger informed them.

"Like that guy in Japan," Pam nodded.

"What guy in Japan?" Cyril asked.

"There's a guy in Japan that's our biggest client," Pam said. "In fact, we just sent him a huge order this morning."

"What kind of order?" Cyril asked. "I ask knowing it will creep me out."

"This!" Krieger changed the page on the website. "I call it the Fisto Roboto II!"

"The sex robot?" Mallory shouted. "You made **another** sex robot?"

"Technically it's an artificially intelligent fully functional fetish machine," Krieger said. "Oh, you're right. It is a sex robot."

"Domo Arigato Fisto Roboto!" Pam called out cheerfully. "That's what I said when we shipped it this morning."

"Krieger…" Lana gave him a look.

"Those are specialized orders!" Krieger said. "We're getting fifteen grand on that! And it costs a lot cheaper than that to make."

"How much cheaper?" Cyril asked.

"Under two grand," Krieger said. "You'd be amazed what perfectly good machine and computer parts people throw away in dumpsters."

"Oh for God's sake Krieger…" Lana groaned.

"Lana if it will make money and help pay for Sterling's bills I'll be a god damned customer service representative if I have to!" Mallory barked. "It's for Sterling…I…"

Mallory started to choke up. "Oh Mallory," Lana sighed. "I guess if it's for Archer…"

"And this agency," Cyril sighed. "Which honestly we've done a lot worse to get money."

"I mean it's not like we're selling cocaine again," Ray shrugged.

"Technically we never sold any **before** ," Mallory groaned. "Fine. As long as the profits go back to this agency. And you're not just moving the product around using the mail like you did with the damn cocaine…"

"I'm not! I promise! Swearsies realsies!" Krieger protested as he held up a pinky finger.

"So this is what we've been reduced to?" Mallory groaned. "Well why the hell not?"

"I'm pretty sure a reason will pop up sooner or later," Lana groaned.

A few weeks later…

"No change?" Ray asked as Lana and Mallory walked into the break room.

"Nothing," Mallory looked depressed as she sat down. "The doctors say Sterling is in some kind of shock from everything his body went through. They don't know when he'll wake up. On the plus side his latest venereal disease flare up is almost over so…"

"You look like you're in shock," Ray said gently. "Maybe you should go home and rest?"

"Maybe you should…" Mallory teared up. "I can't. I don't even have the strength or the will to insult you."

"Oh Ms. Archer," Ray took her hand. "We both know that Archer will wake up sooner or later and he'll be just fine. And then you'll be swearing and belittling me while using the most cruel and vicious homophobic remarks known to man."

"You really think so?" Mallory started to sob.

"I **know** so," Ray said.

"Thank you, Ray," Mallory sniffed. "That makes me feel better."

"Mallory I'm going to make us some tea," Lana said.

"With some brandy in it?" Mallory asked as she let go of Ray's hand.

"That sounds good," Ray nodded.

"Fine," Lana went to do so.

"I DON'T FREAKING BELIEVE THIS!" Cyril was heard shouting. "KRIEGER! PAM! YOU IDIOTS RUINED US ALL!"

"Oh dear God," Mallory groaned. "What fresh hell is going on **now?"**

"Don't suppose we can just ignore that, can we?" Ray groaned.

"No, we can't," Lana said as they left the room. "Cyril what's going on?"

"You know our little online enterprise?" Pam sighed as the others were standing around the screen TV in the bullpen. "We may get some slight negative publicity."

"It's not our fault!" Krieger protested. "The directions **clearly state** in English and German to not use Fisto Roboto in the water!"

"What about Japanese?" Cheryl asked.

"Well no but…" Krieger paused. "Okay I see where you are going with this."

"I see where our profits are going to go," Cyril groaned. "Down the toilet!"

"What happened?" Lana asked bitterly.

"I think the TV will tell us," Cheryl pointed.

On screen was a familiar reporter. "This is Darlene Love of Jaguar News live in Tokyo. Shocking tragedy shook the financial world as billionaire industrialist and technology pioneer Dasike Harunoshi died at the age of 54 due to what the police report as a very shocking and bizarre circumstances involving a robot of some kind."

"Oh this will not end well," Ray groaned.

"Details of Harunoshi's death are not officially cited," Darlene said. "But sources claim that Harunoshi died due to electrocution while trying to have some kind of intimate relations with some kind of robot in his pool."

"Again, directions were very clear on **not** putting Fisto Roboto in **water!** " Krieger shouted.

"I was right," Ray groaned.

"Authorities believe this was some kind of strange accident considering the circumstances." Darlene reported. "Which apparently include a large amount of something called tentacle porn. Is that that **thing?** Seriously? Okay…"

"This might cut into our profits," Krieger admitted.

"How? The disclaimer says no refunds," Pam said. Everyone looked at her. "What?"

"I **knew** there would be a reason this was a bad idea," Lana rolled her eyes.

"Lana," Mallory groaned. "Skip the tea. I'll drink the brandy straight."

"Me too," Cyril moaned.


End file.
